


Guard Thee At Rest

by coprolite_blend



Series: Sleep of Reason Series [1]
Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Bones will burst a vein, Can't get away from drama and angst, Gen, Kid Fic, Spock has a headache
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-27
Updated: 2011-11-27
Packaged: 2017-10-26 14:47:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/284513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coprolite_blend/pseuds/coprolite_blend
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part 1 of <i>Sleep of Reason</i> Series.</p><p>He should have known that no matter how peaceful their mission is, the Captain, more often than not, causes trouble, especially to himself, and by extension to Spock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Guard Thee At Rest

**Author's Note:**

> I know, I know. *sigh* It's one of those fics, but I just want to try my hand on it. Hehe.
> 
> Warnings and ratings may change in the future. This was written a last year. (yeah, lazy me hasn't finished this series yet. oh well, it will be, soon [I hope.]).
> 
>  **DISCLAIMER:** I do not own Star Trek  & its universe; the (Pattern) Jugglers belong to _Alastair Reynolds_ \- just borrowed them. =)
> 
>   
> 
> 
> * * *
> 
> **Prompt:** Serenade

  
The door slides open, and the first thing he does is search for the Captain of the _Enterprise_ , who is _evidently_ not among the crewmembers who are just beamed aboard. He pointedly looks at the Head Security Officer tasked to guard the Captain, Lieutenant Michael Wheeler, for an explanation.

Their premature return to the ship is not a good sign; it’s never a good sign. It indicates that either the mission has gone from good to bad or from bad to worse, or something entirely not planned has occurred, which is worrying enough. Their mission is simple - a trade negotiation with the Jugglers, and Spock has been fairly certain that nothing will go wrong. He’s mistaken, apparently.

“Where is the Captain,” demands Spock, his tone very much controlled, but his aura is too menacing that the ensign manning the transporter has flinched and the other has cowered into the nearest wall. The Vulcan ignores their reactions, eyes steadily regarding the Lieutenant he’s questioned.

“Sir,” the burly man stands straighter; the remaining three officers mirror his action. “He’s- um. He’s with us, Commander.”

Spock’s too concerned for his Captain to even arch his brow. He does _not see_ him anywhere with them on the pad. “Clarify.”

Just then, a loud cry emits from behind the three officers. Lieutenant Wheeler turns around to Science Officer Reyes, who’s carrying an object in her arms, rocking it gently up and down, side-to-side and making hushing sounds.

“Damn, he woke up,” whispers Ensign Dubois to Ensign Roberts by the woman’s side.

It is then that Spock discerns the command gold cloth that wraps the wailing object. He strides towards the pad as the officers move aside, stopping in front of the ensign, who gives him a worried glance while she continues to rock and try to shush the object.

Or rather, the infant. An infant whose hair is golden brown, cheeks plump and rosy pink, face crunched, and its nose and eyes are wet.

His head snaps to Lieutenant Wheeler, eyes narrowing dangerously.

Wheeler visibly swallows under the Commander’s piercing gaze, stepping behind Ensign Reyes. “H-he’s a - umm, a baby, Sir.”

“Evidently,” Spock clips before turning to the quivering forms of the ensigns by the transporter consoles. “Send for Doctor McCoy.”

The infant continues to wail loudly and it’s starting to hurt Spock’s sensitive hearing.

He doesn’t know what possesses him, but Spock reaches for the infant, taking the Captain from the frustrated Science Officer. The wailing becomes snivels in one-point-three seconds flat. The Vulcan hides his surprise by blinking down at those blue eyes that are looking up at him in surprised wonder before the infant smiles, showing two small incisors.

There is a swishing sound and Spock directs his eyes to the entrance. Doctor McCoy comes barging, tricorder in hand, and an entourage of medical nurses, together with a gurney, enters with him.

“What the hell happened?” the doctor cries as he jogs up the pad. “It’s a fucking banque-” He halts and blinks at the baby in Spock’s arms. “What the fuck is that?”

“This,” Spock says patiently, “is the Captain.”

McCoy stares at Spock for a moment, dumbfounded. “You’re telling me, that that baby is James Tiberius Kirk. The hell?”

“Indeed.”

* * *

  
In Sickbay, Doctor McCoy examines the baby, cursing profanities, while Kirk, whose face is now free of any form of fluid (mucus and tears) and is clothed with an absorbent garment, a black shirt and black socks, clutches his tiny hand around the Vulcan’s forefinger as he lies quietly on the bed, gurgling laughter once in a while.

When he has handed the infant to Doctor McCoy earlier in the transporter room, Jim has screeched and tried to reach out for Spock with his short, pudgy arms. The only solution was to take Jim back, which yielded a satisfactory result - the infant calmed down.

Lieutenant Wheeler is presently reporting to the Commander. He states that none of them knows exactly what happened. They were eating, drinking, dancing and enjoying the festivity when the Lady Liadlaw, the leader of the Jugglers, approached Lieutenant Uhura and handed her the baby. The Juggler has told her the identity of the infant, explaining the circumstances. It appears that the Captain has told the Lady Liadlaw that he misses being a child sometimes, so the Juggler has turned back his time as a form of gift, resulting to the transformation.

They weren’t even aware that the Jugglers have such capability.

“Lieutenant Uhura and Lieutenant Sulu?” Spock asks blandly.

Wheeler clears his throat. “They’re continuing the negotiations, Sir. A-and I think Lieutenant Sulu threa- threatened the Jugglers if they don’t return the Captain to… his old self.”

That is unacceptable; they cannot afford to lose the alliance with the Jugglers. “Return to the festivity,” he commands. “Have them report immediately to me as soon as the negotiations are done. They are not to act hostile with the Jugglers.”

The Lieutenant salutes and scampers out of the Sickbay as Spock turns his attention to the infant.

The Jugglers are a peaceful race, known to store memories and record the minds of whoever encounters them. Their planet, Vaita, is rich of benarium crystals, a naturally-synthesized form of benamite, which can be used in the power systems of a starship, similar to dilithium but more efficient. The Federation has been trading with them for ten years, and the _Enterprise_ was sent to their planet to renew the contracts for another decade, or perhaps more.

“Aren’t you even going to go down there and give them a piece of your Vulcan mind?” Doctor McCoy scowls, glaring at him.

Spock doesn’t answer. Instead, he says, “What is the Captain’s condition?”

McCoy grumbles something unintelligible under his breath. “His vitals are normal: heart rate, respiration, physiological and neural functions. He has two eyes, a nose, two ears, a drooling mouth, four limbs, five fingers in each hand and five digits in each foot.” He puts the PADD on the biobed. “In other words, Jim’s a healthy, twenty-pound, twelve-month old baby.”

“I see,” is Spock’s only response, a bit distracted as Jim helplessly tries to pull his finger.

“Yep. Even though he was born prematurely then - weighing of only five pounds, he’s pretty much as fit as a fiddle right now.” Then he adds, “Aside from his usual allergies.”

There are a few minutes of comfortable silence, with the exceptions of the machineries’ beeps and chirps, before Doctor McCoy breaks it. “That’s it? You’re just gonna stay up here? You should be waging war at them, you overgrown, emotionless elf! They turned Jim into a baby! A _baby_ , Spock!”

“Which is a gift, as the Lady Liadlaw had stated,” Spock answers calmly.

“And you believe her? How in damnation are we going to explain this to Starfleet?” McCoy screams, his arms flailing about.

“The Lady Liadlaw has caused no harm to the Captain,” he says, eyes remaining on Jim, who is laughing and shifting his limbs; Spock stays immobile despite the infant’s movements. “Additionally, if the situation was truly dire, Lieutenant Uhura or Lieutenant Sulu would have stated otherwise. With the matters of the report, I will handle that at a later time.”

“Are we fucking looking at the same thing, Spock?” McCoy argues, voice still loud. “Jim is a _baby_! How the fuck are we going to change him back when I don’t even know where to begin?”

Before Spock can answer, Lieutenant Sulu comes running in, making both he and McCoy face the new arrival.

“Thank goodness he’s alright,” Sulu exclaims, panting. “How is he, Doctor?”

“Report, Lieutenant,” orders Spock, preventing McCoy to react.

Sulu appears to remember himself as he looks at the Commander. “Lieutenant Uhura is grilling them, Sir. They’re also revising the contract.”

“I don’t fucking care about the damn negotiation!” bursts McCoy, stepping close to Sulu, jabbing a finger onto his chest. “Did those damn amphibians say anything to turn Jim back?”

“They said it’s only temporary,” Sulu replies, nervously, sending fleeting glances at the hypospray in McCoy’s other hand. “That he’ll be aging a year every twenty-four hours until he reaches his original age, and then everything will be back to the way it was.”

“Every twenty-four hours,” McCoy repeats with a glare. “Can’t they just turn him back now?”

“Um, well,” the helmsman begins, hesitant. “They - um, they don’t want to.”

The doctor grabs Sulu’s collar with one hand, their faces close as McCoy points a finger near the other’s eye; Sulu leans away as far as he can. “You fucking tell them to undo what they fucking did to Jim or I’ll give you a damn lobotomy this fucking instant!”

Sulu weakly turns to Spock for help, to which the Vulcan just raises his eyebrow. He then looks at the doctor. “W-we tried, but the Lady Liadlaw says that’s not what the Captain wants.”

“The Captain doesn’t know what he wants! He’s a fucking baby!” McCoy screams, his voice booming as he shoves Sulu. He glowers at Spock. “If you’re not going down there, then I damn _will_!”

“Do not give me a reason to place you in the brig, Doctor,” Spock warns as he feels Jim’s fright. Doubtless it is caused by the Medical Officer’s outbursts. “We cannot lose the only planet which can provide Starfleet with benarium.”

“Is that all you can fucking think about, you cold-blooded bastard?” McCoy accuses vehemently; Spock can feel his anger at their three-point-two meters of distance from each other. “Look at what they did to Jim!”

“He will return to his correct age in five hundred seventy-five-point-three hours.” The Vulcan then picks up the infant under the arms, arranging the thick cloth around the small body as he cradles him. “As you are finished with the Captain’s physical analysis, I will take him to his quarters. Lieutenant Sulu, return to the surface and aid Lieutenant Uhura with the negotiation. Failure is not an option.”

McCoy blocks his path. “Wait just a damn minute. You can’t take him anywhere! You don’t even know how to handle adult humans let alone a baby.”

Spock regards him coolly. “The Captain wails at your touch and anyone else’s. I appear to be the only one he does not repulse. It is therefore only logical that I serve as his guardian until he will welcome other’s contact.”

With that, Spock leaves Sickbay, but not quickly enough to avoid hearing McCoy’s curses.

* * *

  
To be quite honest, Spock doesn’t have the faintest idea on how to take care of a child, an infant. Doctor McCoy has been correct with his judgment - that he doesn’t know how to do this, but that doesn’t mean he cannot try. It is true that the infant Captain doesn’t react well with other’s touches. For instance, when Nurse Chapel has been clothing Jim in Sickbay, the infant has screamed and cried. It is only when he has caught Spock’s finger that he quieted down.

Odd. Spock doesn’t know why such is so.

Jim is at ease at this moment, joyous and enthusiastic. He moves around Spock’s hold while the Vulcan walks, twisting as he surveys the surroundings. He occasionally giggles as well, and places his saliva-coated fingers on Spock’s cheeks and forehead from time to time. Even as an infant, the Captain is certainly never still, he thinks as he fixes his arms around him when they’ve reached the turbolift.

“Captain’s quarters,” he says and the lift comes to life.

It is not that Spock is unconcerned with the Captain’s current condition. The only reason he’s calm about the matter is because he personally knows the Lady Liadlaw, and he trusts that her intention is without malice. The Lady and he have met when he has accompanied his father in one of his travels; he was fifteen years, six months and ten days old. They were in Risa then, where Sarek were to meet with Mistress T’Pol, who was there to give Sarek some information Spock wasn’t privy to. It was during his exploration of Suraya Bay that he has encountered the Juggler.

The Lady Liadlaw was by the sea, bathing at the two suns’ heat. She has a pale blue skin, seemingly like the ocean, silver hair pooling on the sands, and obviously bipedal as her legs were stretched out. Spock, being a curious individual even then, has approached the alien he has never seen or heard before. They spoke for a length of time and Spock was surprised that she knew how to speak Standard. She has explained that their species are called Jugglers, or in their local tongue, _Mekh’iem_ , and that her home planet, Vaita, lies on Beta Quadrant, near the border of Alpha Quadrant, approximately four-point-twenty-one light years from Risa. Spock inquired as to why there were no records of them in the Federation system. If they were a known species, surely there would have been some documentation regarding them.

As they continued to exchange information, Spock discovered that the _Mekh’iem_ are not much of space explorers, preferring the ocean to the emptiness of space. They are, however, capable of space fairing - as evidence of the Lady Liadlaw’s presence on the planet. They are also not much of an exploring species, but they welcome those who come in contact with their planet. Their conversation, disappointedly, ended when Spock’s communicator beeped; his father had him summoned.

Three years, two months and seven days has passed after their encounter that Spock has heard the news that they have joined the Federation due to the fact that the _Shariv_ , a Vulcan exploration ship, has made contact with the Jugglers. It was then that it was discovered that Vaita has a rare mineral greatly needed for starships - the benarium crystals. Spock has had another opportunity to meet with the Lady Liadlaw when she has visited Risa again in twenty-one-point two months after their species joined the Federation.

“Po,” says Jim suddenly, tapping Spock’s cheeks with a giggle, breaking the Vulcan’s chain of thoughts. “Po!”

Spock lifts an eyebrow, halting his steps just outside the turbolift as he stares at boy. This is the first time infant Jim has spoken, and his first word, oddly enough, is “Po”. Perhaps he is trying to articulate Spock’s name.

Reaching their destination, Spock enters the room, quite pleased with its clean and neat state. He gently places Kirk on the center of the soft mattress. The infant laughs lightly, clapping his hands and legs together.

“Po!” Jim says again; his blue eyes seem to be twinkling like far off twin stars in the dimness of the room.

“Fascinating,” mutters Spock, particularly to no one.

Jim then suddenly rolls to the left, and with Spock’s swift reflexes, he’s able to stop the Captain from going over the edge on the other side. Clearly, the Vulcan needs to barricade the bed if he were to leave him on his own. Then again, a youngling of Jim’s age requires constant supervision.

As he is now the Acting Captain of the _Enterprise_ , it is his responsibility to manage the ship, but he cannot bequeath Jim to someone else’s care for aforementioned reasons. Nor can he bring him to the bridge during his shift, to the laboratories to conduct experiments or during away missions. He tries not to sigh at the conundrum. Lieutenant-Commander Scott will just have to oversee both his and the Captain’s duties for the time being.

For now, he has to make the overly active infant, who is squirming at his hold, sleep, so he can at least issue the orders and make a ship-wide announcement regarding changes due to the situation.

Yet the question remains, how’s he to put Jim to sleep? He sits on the bed, hands over Jim’s stomach to prevent him from rolling away again.

He can tire the infant by playing with him, but seeing the energy Jim possesses, that can take _hours_. No, Spock violently shakes his head, there will be _no_ nerve-pinching. That is _not_ an option. A mind-meld-induced sleep is also absolutely out of the equation. There’s no telling what the side effects of such powerful telepathy are to an _infant human_.

Spock gradually lies on his side, an arm curled under his head while he keeps his booted-feet hanging out of the bed. He lets his other hand hover over the Captain as Jim twists towards him and starts crawling over his torso, which Spock allows, angling his body to accommodate him. As he repeatedly brushes the soft mop of Jim’s hair, he unconsciously starts to drone _Brahm’s Lullaby_ , a soothing song his mother used to sing to him as a child at night.

Jim openly smiles at him with a high-pitched series of laughter. “Po!”

The song is hummed forty-three times and the Captain yawns, lying the side of his head on Spock’s chest. Another sixteen repetitions, Jim’s breathing ultimately settles on an even rhythm - he is, finally, asleep. But Spock continues on, smoothly stroking the Captain’s back in a languid manner.

It will be one hour and seven minutes before Spock will carefully settle Jim on the mattress, and will then contact Mister Scott on the bridge. He will also, most definitely, ignore the questioning look the Chief Engineer will give him.

Spock will need not ask what the strange glance is for; he already knows that there is an irregular-shaped stain on his uniform’s front from Jim’s drooling.

* * *

  
Thanks very much for reading! Feedbacks and concrits are love! Mwah! <3 


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